


The Twoleg of ThunderClan

by aquabreeze



Series: The Twoleg of Thunderclan [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Other, Suspense, ThunderClan, Twoleg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquabreeze/pseuds/aquabreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the mysterious disappearance of her beloved cat Rusty, 18-year-old Miranda Peck journeys into the woods behind her home, searching for him. What she finds will change her life- forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Twoleg of ThunderClan

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Twoleg of Thunderclan](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/99440) by Aquabreeze93 (Rosepelt). 



> Originally uploaded to Fanfiction.net on June 28, 2006. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote. It got really, really popular on FF.Net back in the day, despite the fact that the original versions were written by a 13-year-old, so you can imagine the quality (or the lack thereof). This is not that version. I wrote the bulk of this version of the first chapter in 2011, and updated it and retooled it today (February 2015). You can find a link to my FF.Net account through my profile, if you want to take a look of the versions that I'll probably be making fun of later. For now, enjoy the revamp! I'll post newer (better) versions of the chapters to come in the coming weeks and months. (The FF.Net version will be edited to match this one, of course.) The story will probably be a little different than the original version, though. What's going to be different? Weeelll... you'll have to wait and find out. ;)

Miranda Peck sat leaning against the forest-green decorative pillow in the painted white window seat of her room. Her room was comforting and neat- a sanctuary from her life. The walls were white beadboard, with pictures of sailboats and landscapes hung neatly in modern black frames. The floor, made of smooth, beautiful oak, was bare except for a circle-shaped area rug in the center of it, depicting a scene of pure white seagulls over blue-gray ocean waves, bordered in a circle of ivory. In the corner of the room, near the door, was a tall birch bookshelf, filled with books, and next to it, a plain white table that served as a desk, with a flat-monitor Dell computer sitting squarely in the center. A black swivel chair with no cushions stood pushed in, waiting for someone to sit in it. Past the desk, the wall made a sharp 90 degree turn, and a tiny walk-in closet with white slide-away doors stood facing the window. It was filled with Miranda's clothes, mostly jeans and t-shirts. (It wasn't that she didn't want to wear anything else- she had some dresses, skirts, leggings, and all that- but she liked jeans- heavy, practical pants with pockets. And tees worked in any temperature- if it was cold, she could throw a hoodie or a sweater over it. No problem.) On the other side of the room was her bed, a mattress on a cart covered with forest-green sheets. It was covered in a rainbow of different-colored and different-sized blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. It was a small room, but cozy. The window seat was trapezoid-shaped to fit the windows, which were made up of two vertically-pointing glass rectangles, diagonally turned toward a bigger, more square-shaped window out a few feet. It looked over a small garden with tread-on dusty grass, with the exception of a wooden deck with patio equipment adjacent to the house and a small vegetable garden in the far corner. The view went past a low white picket fence to the untamed woods beyond.

It was those woods that Miranda stared at now, twirling her long black hair, her blue eyes filled with tranquil contemplation. She wore a lavender t-shirt, a small silver cross necklace, and jeans. Her bare feet lay stretched out on the other side of the window. She was deep in thought.

It had been a long time since her high school graduation present, an adorable orange tabby kitten named Rusty, had disappeared into those woods and never returned. Within two weeks, Miranda's parents, John and Cassandra, decided he was dead. "After all," her father had pointed out, "we can't really expect such a young and helpless cat to survive!"

Miranda clenched her teeth.  _They_ hadn't seen how fiercely Rusty had attacked and killed a stray wasp that somehow had made its way into her room, without getting stung even once.  _They_ hadn't seen the look in his eyes when he was playfighting with Smudge, the neighbor's black-and-white kitten.  _They_ hadn't seen his strength, his speed, the way he'd look out at the woods- that little something in Rusty that made him almost  _wild_.

A slender brown tabby slipped in through the door, announcing her arrival into the room with a loud meow. It was Hattie. The Peck family adopted her after Rusty went missing. She padded across the floor and jumped into Miranda's lap, purring loudly.

Miranda smiled, and began to stroke Hattie's arched back. Hattie was different than Rusty; she was more affectionate, more accepting of house cat life. But Miranda loved her just the same.

As she sat there, she wondered about what had happened to Rusty. Where did he go? And why? Was he dead, like her parents thought? She sighed. There was only one way to find out. Look for him.  _Again._

Miranda sat up, startling Hattie. She jumped off Miranda's lap with a protest-twinged meow. Miranda walked past the cat without a look, and walked down the carpeted stairs into the small galley kitchen. She tore a sticky note off a stack on the counter, and a black sharpie from the cup near the sink.

> _Gone to look for Rusty. Yes,_ _again_ _. Back before dinner._
> 
> _-Miranda :)_
> 
> _P.S. Happy First Day of Spring!_

She stuck the sticky note on the refrigerator, and slipped into a pair of old, worn sneakers. She walked through the living room and was about to leave when-

"Good luck, Miranda."

Miranda jumped, and twirled around. No one was around except for Hattie, who sat regally at the bottom of the stairs, tail twitching, amber eyes fixated on her.

Miranda blinked in surprise. "Did… did you say something?"

Hattie meowed, as if saying no.

Miranda smirked, shook her head, and walked out the back door, into the cloudy late afternoon. She hopped the picket fence with an energetic bound, and took off into the woods.

Over the next few hours, Miranda wandered the forest aimlessly, calling for Rusty until she was hoarse. But as usual, Rusty was nowhere to be found. As the clouds cleared, and the sky lit up with the sunset, Miranda collapsed in front of a large sycamore at the edge of a clearing, sobbing.

_I failed. Again._

She was about to pick herself up and head home, when a cat-shaped white blur darted past her.

_What-_

As if pulled by some strange force, Miranda took off after the fast-moving cat. It stopped, looked at her with wide eyes, dropped something brown and furry from its teeth, and ran off again, faster than before. Miranda was quick to follow. She didn't lose sight of the cat as the forest whipped by them, until suddenly, she tripped on a pile of bramble, and fell into a sandy ravine. The force of the fall knocked the wind out of her. She watched the cat's bushy white tail disappear under a bush, coughing as the air came back into her lungs. Slowly, she managed to stand and look around. And then she noticed them.

There were cats everywhere! They all stared at her with the same scared look in their eyes as the cat she had chased there. Then, all at once, they began to run around, like a panicked mob- and yet, surprisingly organized. The cats divided up. Plump cats nudged kittens underneath a bramble bush. Scrawny, older-looking cats ran as fast as their old, tired feet could carry them under a moss-covered branch on a fallen tree. Older kittens- about the age Rusty had been when he had left- scrambled into a clump of ferns, and all the others under the same bush that the white cat had vanished under- except for two cats, one dark gray, and a light brown tabby kitten with white paws, who dived into a crack in a rock, stuffed with herbs and grasses.

Miranda could make out an orange tabby trying to slip beneath another, larger rock. But there was something awfully familiar about that one… _wait_... and then she gasped. She knew this cat. She called out pleadingly, her eyes brimming with tears of relief and joy-

_"Rusty!"_


End file.
